Breathe
by EverClear132003
Summary: Harry and Draco are both struck with an unknown disease. What will happen in isolation? H/D SLASH, don't read if you don't like. ***Chapter 2***Thanks for all the reviews!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK's toys for a bit, I'll put them back.

This is my first real attempt at slash – I posted this story once before, but it was really bad. Feel free to flame, but I got my graham crackers and marshmallows if things get ugly. I expect the spells are incorrectly spelt, but my books seem to have disappeared. I'll fix them if I find the proper spellings.

Breathe

Chapter 1 

Harry Potter paused in the hall, moving to slump against a wall, out of everyone's way. He slid to a crouch, resting his head on his knees, trying to regain his breathing abilities. This was the seventh time this week he had to stop to catch his breath – and why was he so tired? Granted, he had just spent an hour in History of Magic, which was enough to put anyone to sleep, but that was only his first class. 

He remained on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest, until the noise that surrounded him, from students filing to their next classes. He knew he should get up – he had Potions, and Snape was particularly evil this year – much more so than usual. A voice floated into his daze. 

"Harry? Are you OK?" He opened his eyes to find Cloud McPherson, a Canadian transfer student. His mind drifted back to the beginning of this year, his sixth at Hogwarts, and the first time he, Ron, and Hermione had met Cloud.

Flashback 

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Ron was slaughtering Harry in a game of chess, Ginny and Neville were playing Exploding Snap, and Hermione was flicking through _The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 6_.

The door slid open smoothly, revealing Draco Malfoy. Harry was surprised that Malfoy's cronies were not in their usual posts by his side. He glared at Malfoy, who sneered back, but said nothing, until his eyes landed on Ron. 

"Well, if it isn't King Weasley," he drawled, seeming to forget that Gryffindor had replaced his lyrics with different ones, supporting Ron, last year. Ron's ears turned pink. "Sod off, Malfoy," he snarled, accidentally knocking three pieces of the chessboard. They shouted at him in annoyance, until Harry glared at them, shutting them up. 

"No thanks," Malfoy replied, smirking. "And then we have Potty. Alright there, Scarhead?" Harry opened his mouth to reply, but a noise of discouragement came from Hermione, who gave him a formidable glare. Malfoy narrowed his eyes as they met hers. "And the Mudblood," he said quietly. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville jumped up, all with wands ready. But they were too late.

"Expellimellius!" called an unfamiliar voice. Malfoy's wand shot out of his hand, and he grabbed for it, vainly. The voice continued. "Petrifcus Totalus." Malfoy's arms and legs snapped together and he crashed to the floor, stiff as a board. "Mobillicorpus." He floated off the floor, and through the door he had come from. Peering around the doorframe, they found a tall brunette levitating Malfoy into an overhead storage compartment. She slammed the top shut, gazing at it thoughtfully. "Hmm, better do an Unopenable Charm on it," she mused. "Anti Alohomora." Harry watched Hermione's eyes widen. Even he knew that, while Alohomora was a simple spell, the opposite, a locking charm, was much harder, around a NEWT level charm. The girl grinned at the group clustered at the door, then freed Malfoy from the Petrificus. They heard his panicked pleads and calls from inside the compartment. 

Laughing, they returned to their compartment, the girl trailing them. "That was brilliant," Ron praised, Ginny and Neville nodding their agreement. "Thanks," the girl replied airily. Harry studied her. She was tall, about 5'8" to Harry's newfound height of 6', and Ron's towering 6'5". She had snapping blue – green eyes that sometimes looked gray, and white – blonde hair that tumbled down below her waist. Harry heard Hermione gasp, and knew immediately why – their saviour bore a striking resemblance to the Malfoys.

"He's such a slimy git," the girl commented. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't related to him." The Gryffindors gaped. "You – you're related to – to..that?" Ron demanded. The girl nodded. "He's my cousin, my mum's his aunt." She turned to Harry, Hermione, and the two Weasleys. "You know my sister," she said. "Tonks." They gaped again. This was Tonks' sister? "Well, half – sister, actually. My name's Cloud. Cloud McPherson. My mother's name is Andromeda. She had an affair with a wizard. The result was me." 

Ron blinked. "Barking. You're related to Ferret Boy, but you're not at all like him. Just looks." Cloud nodded. "He thinks he's so good because he's a pureblood. Well, so am I, I'm just illegitimate, that's all." She sighed. "Anyways, my mother and step – father moved to Canada. I'm an exchange student from The Toronto School Of Magic. I traded spots with..some chick named Lavender. So I'm in Gryffindor with you bunch." 

Harry watched Hermione's expression brighten – she disliked Lavender. He continued to study the new girl. She was Canadian, which explained the unfamiliar accent and slang. She was also related to the Malfoys, but seemed very different. 

By the time the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station, Harry and company were good friends with Cloud, and the Gryffindor trio had increased to a quartet. They disembarked, Harry delighted to see Hagrid's large form, lumbering about the platform, calling loudly. "Firs years! Firs years over 'ere!" He waved to Harry, who waved back.

They found themselves at the carriages pulled by the skeletal Thestrals. Harry shuddered when he saw them, angry at the reason why he could. Cloud saw him shiver. "They're awful looking, aren't they?" she commented, standing next to him. He gave her a brief look of surprise. "Yeah, I can see them. Uncle Lucius seems to think I'm salvageable, despite my tarnished parentage, and willing to join the Dark Side. I've had tons of Death Eater training sessions..the things they do..they're horrible..killing Muggles for the fun of it. So it's no wonder I can see them." Harry stared. This girl, barely 16, had seen things almost as bad as he had. He climbed in after this strange new girl.

_End Flashback_

"Harry?"

Cloud's inquisitive voice dragged him out of his reverie. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm OK." He struggled to his feet, ignoring the other girl's worried look. "Just a bit tired, that's all," he lied. She snorted. "You're full of shit, Potter," she told him. "Get your ass to the hospital wing." Harry nodded. "Maybe I'd better.

He got up and hobbled towards the staircase. Cloud was rooted to the spot she had found him in. "Want help?" she called, voice filled with concern. He answered by giving her the finger, above his head – something she had taught him. She smiled sadly, watching him walk slowly towards the hospital wing. 

Harry trudged carefully through the doors, and was attacked by Madam Pomfrey. "Oh no, not you too, oh dear, DUMBLEDORE!" Harry winced as her shout shot through his head like an arrow. "Sorry love, now, you just lie here." She pushed him down onto the nearest bed, as Dumbledore swept into the room. "You called, Poppy?" he asked, an amused twinkle in his eyes. Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Potter's here, he's got it too." 

Dumbledore frowned. "Dear me. Alright, Poppy, I think we had better put the both of them in isolation together, before this spreads any further. We'll use the Room Of Requirement." His eyes sparkled at Harry as Harry remembered his last use for the Room Of Requirement. Something struck him just then. "Professor, what d'you mean, both? Who's the other one? What have we got?" Dumbledore smiled. "to answer your first two questions, look at the far bed. As for the third, I cannot answer, as I do not know. Good day, Harry, Poppy." He left.

Madam Pomfrey whirled into action. "Right then. Now, lie very still, I'm going to float you and Mr. Malfoy to the Room." Harry snapped his head to look at the bed furthest away from him. Draco Malfoy lay in it, unconscious, and paler than normal. His mind reeled. "Wait – I'm not going into isolation with him, am I?" Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Yes, you are, and Dumbledore will be very angry if you two kill each other," said another voice. Professor McGonagall appeared. "I'll take them, Poppy, I just came from there, finished setting up." Madam Pomfrey nodded. 

McGonagall performed Petrificus Totalus on Harry, before levitating both boys, floating them out of the hospital wing. They slowly made their way to the seventh floor, where Harry recognized the Room Of Requirement. When McGonagall gave the password, the door slid open smoothly, revealing a large, spacious room. She floated them onto separate beds – one green and silver, one red and gold – and unfroze Harry, before waking up Malfoy. As he sat up, staring about in shock, McGonagall held up a hand to silence him. "Right then. You will stay here until we discover the illness, and find a cure. Your homework will appear nightly, and meals will appear 3 times a day, as usual. This is, of course, the Room Of Requirement, so anything you need, just think of. Except a way to escape, that has been taken care of. Good day." With that, she spun on her heel, exiting the room. 

Malfoy exploded. "Where the fuck are we? Why are you here? And why, more importantly, am I?" Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a searing pain shot through his chest, his muscles contracting painfully. He heard a sharp gasp from the other bed, and realized that Malfoy had the same symptoms. "And why do I feel like shit?" Malfoy wheezed. 

As quickly as it had come, the pain disappeared, leaving Harry with a throbbing headache. "We've got some kind of disease. They dunno what it is, so we're stuck in isolation 'til they figure it out," he explained. Malfoy scowled. "So I'm stuck in a room with just you until they figure out what's wrong with us?"

Harry returned the scowl. "Yeah, well, I'm not any happier about it," he shot. Malfoy smirked. "Why, gonna miss Weasel?" he taunted. "Gonna miss the Mudblood?" Harry's green eyes flashed and narrowed dangerously. "Don't call her that," he said slowly. "Don't call her what, Mudblood?" he teased, eyes glimmering with mirth. 

Harry lost it. He lashed out at the taller boy, clenched fist connecting with a smooth jawline. Although not one for physical fighting, Malfoy gave as good as he got. The teens spat insults as they grappled, neither giving up.

Harry realized with a jolt where he was – Malfoy was on his back, with Harry straddling his waist, weight supported on his arms, one above either shoulder. Neither boy moved, silver eyes locked with emerald ones. Their breathing should have slowed as they poised, motionless, but, inexplicably, it quickened. Harry mentally slapped his forehead as he realized he was getting very aroused, praying the boy under him wouldn't notice. 

Without warning, Malfoy attacked, flipping Harry onto his back, and taking up Harry's spot, straddling his waist, giving him the upper hand. Harry was surprised to find the blonde's erection digging into his thigh. Suddenly, Malfoy dropped his head, crushing his lips against Harry's in a brutal, bruising kiss.

Harry responded eagerly, forcing his tongue into the other boy's mouth. They battled, while hands roamed aimlessly, Harry's eventually finding the buttons on Malfoy's shirt. Not removing his lips, he ripped the shirt open, rubbing his thumbs over Malfoy's erect nipples. He resumed his original position, pulling his mouth away to nip at the blonde's smooth, creamy chest. He grinned at the sudden intake of breath, first licking, then blowing on the older boy's nipples. 

Malfoy tangled his hand in Harry's raven hair, forcing his head lower. Freeing his partner of his pants and boxers, Harry lowered his mouth over the full, erect member, his enemy's hands holding his head. He bit gently, teasingly rubbing the base of the other boy's arousal. Withdrawing slowly, he blew softly over the head, before taking him back into his mouth. Malfoy bucked his hips as he released, forcing his seed between his rival's lips. A cry escaped his throat. "Harry!"

The object of the cry raised his head, interested. "Did you just call me Harry?" he asked. Malfoy looked up. "Slip of the tongue," he panted, still recovering from the intense orgasm. Harry scowled. "You are an arse, you know that? The biggest fucking prick that ever walked the planet!" 

"Fuck you, Potter!" 

"Go ahead," came the reply. Malfoy arched an eyebrow. He would be damned if he let The – Fucking – Boy – Who – Just – Wouldn't – Die win this round. He growled low in his throat, grabbing and stripping the other of his jeans and boxers. "I'll show you who's boss, Potter," he promised, forcing the other boy onto his knees and positioning himself behind. He thrust into the younger boy, surprised at the lack of resistance he found. So, Potter was a queer, how interesting. That could prove for some very good blackmail material. He returned his mind to the task at hand, pumping in and out of the brunette. Very shortly, he filled his enemy with his seed, for the second time. Harry jerked in his grasp, spilling his own load, without a sound. Both boys slumped to the ground, exhausted. They fell asleep, Harry subconsciously snuggling into Malfoy's chest, the blonde unknowingly wrapping an arm around his waist. 

Please, tell me if I should continue!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you guys so much for the reviews! I can honestly say I have never gotten that many reviews for the first chapter of a story. Right then, got to clear up some things. Firstly – their illness. It only strikes at bad times – sort of to ruin good occasions. Rotten thing. Secondly – I might have to say that the characters are rather OOC – I know this, that was sort of the plan. Makes them a little easier to work with. Ok, that's about it, let's get on with it. Oh, by the way, this chapter contains coarse language. Just thought I'd warn you.

Breathe

Chapter 2

_Italics_ indicate Harry's thoughts.

Malfoy woke, not opening his eyes, a warm presence making him very comfortable. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, and gave a yell as he found out whose warm body had been snuggling against his.

"Potter!" he shouted, startling the other boy, who jerked awake. "Wha..?" he asked, his eyes bleary from sleep. "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" Malfoy blazed, searching the room for his discarded clothes. Harry made a face. "Well, I was sleeping, until you interrupted me."

Having found his boxers, draped over a lamp, Malfoy jerked them on. "Listen to me. What ever…what ever happened last night – don't think it'll change anything!"

Harry frowned, pulling on his own boxers. "I wouldn't expect it to. How could a slimy git like you ever change?" Malfoy glared at him. "Eat dung, Potter."

"Why don't you play hide – and – go – fuck – yourself, Malfoy," Harry spat, mentally thanking Cloud for her vast repertoire of unfamiliar insults. Lost for a comeback, Malfoy simply glared daggers, and stomped off to the lavatory. He returned shortly, dressed in a snug black turtleneck and black jeans. Harry noticed something he hadn't all year – his hair. He had scrapped the slicked – back grease pot look – he still used the same amount of gel, but he used it to style his now shorter hair into wicked looking spikes, the tips coloured red. Harry grudgingly admitted that it did look good on him. 

"It's all yours," he snapped, sauntering over to the desk where their homework sat. "Thanks," Harry retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He hurried to the fully equipped washroom, dressed in a red shirt and black jeans. He pondered over his robes, but decided against them. Out of habit, he flattened his hair, which sprang back up again, brushed his teeth, and put in his contacts. He had gotten them last summer, finally exasperated with his constantly – breaking glasses. They emphasized his emerald green eyes, which in turn complimented his jet-black hair.

_I don't look half bad_, he thought looking in the mirror. _Not as hot as Malfoy – argh!_ He mentally smacked himself. _I do not think Malfoy is hot._ He repeated this a few times as he returned to the main room to start his homework.

"Fuck," Malfoy swore, staring down at the papers strewn over his desk. Harry looked up. "What?" he asked. Malfoy's lip curled. "None of your business, Potter, but if you must know, I can't get this stupid Transfiguration junk."

Harry got up and crossed the room, leaning over his rival's shoulder. "Oh, this is easy," he commented, skimming the papers quickly. Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Thanks, that really made me feel better," he remarked. 

Harry, who had much improved in Transfiguration, arched an eyebrow at the other's offhand comment. "I'll make you a deal. I'll help you with your Conjuring spells if you help me figure out this stupid Hair Growth Potion. Why the hell do we have to know that anyways? Fat load of good it'll do us. Oh no, I'm face to face with Voldemort, what do I do? Oh, I know, I'll throw this Hair Growth Potion on him. Maybe he'll trip over his new extra long moustache."

Malfoy laughed in surprise. Harry grinned back at him. "So, you in or what?" Reverting back to his old, smarmy self, Malfoy smirked. "Are you mad? Me, take lessons from you? I'd curse myself into a million pieces with the spells you'd teach me."

Harry's eyes hardened and he stormed away, muttering something about, "I'll curse him into a million pieces if he doesn't shut his fat mouth."

An hour later, Harry sat, smug look on his face, as he watched his enemy struggle with the Conjuring spell. Having sorted out the Potions assignment himself, he had finished his work, and was now gleefully observing the other boy's failed attempts to Conjure a teacup.

"God damnit!" he shouted as his teacup's handle, the only thing he had managed to Conjure, disappeared with a puff of purple smoke. Unable to control himself, Harry snorted with laughter. Malfoy whirled on him, his sliver eyes glinting dangerously. "Right then, you do it, if you're so clever," he challenged. Harry grinned evilly, taking out his wand. "Conjurus Teacup," he announced, in clear tones. A chagrinned Malfoy watched as the swirling periwinkle smoke that poured from Harry's wandtip formed and solidified into a perfect china teacup.  

"Fine," Malfoy snapped. "I give up. Teach me how to do it."

Harry smirked. "OK. First of all, you're not doing the movement right. That's your biggest problem." He moved behind the taller boy, reaching around to wrap his hand around Malfoy's, clutching the wand. He moved his hand, performing the proper movements. "Now you try." Shooting steely knives in his direction, Malfoy mimicked Harry's waves. "Better. Now, try it again. The smoke should be blue, like mine was."

"Conjurus Teacup," Malfoy said, without much conviction. Blue smoke poured from his wand, forming a wobbly, but still respectable looking, teacup. His face brightened considerably as he floated the cup down to the table. "I did it!" he exclaimed, favouring his tutor with a rare smile. Harry smiled back. "You're welcome," he said pointedly. Malfoy flushed a pale pink. "Oh, right, uh, thanks."

As Harry returned to his seat, watching as Malfoy disintegrated the cup and reformed it, he suddenly grinned. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

Please review!


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